


He's not all that infallible, huh?

by spanano



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Snuggling, Sports injuries, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and kuroo is a hot mess, don't worry everything is a-okay in the end, i can't consider this angst tho, kenma is kind caring and loving, kuroo makes a mistake and kenma frets ):
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11682450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spanano/pseuds/spanano
Summary: Kenma felt his heart stop.Skip a beat.Freeze.





	He's not all that infallible, huh?

**Author's Note:**

> So, hi! Here I am once again with another tooth-rotting fluffy fic for you.
> 
> A lot of what's depicted here is something I've gone through playing volleyball, soccer and from swimming, so I'm basing it off of my experience from when I played and from the slew of sports injuries I've had through my high school days and up through university. 
> 
> Concussion's ain't no joke, y'all. Nor are any sports injury of any kind!!! 
> 
> Can I just say that kinesiology tape is a gift from above? Because it is.
> 
> Again, this is unedited and I hope y'all enjoy!

Kenma felt his heart stop.

 

Skip a beat.

 

Freeze.

 

Everyone on the court froze as Kuroo went down with a high-pitched yelp and so laced with pain, even Kenma hurt hearing it.

 

No one moved.   
No one dared breathe.

 

From across the net, Bokuto began to step forward, only to be caught by Akaashi, who shook his head and gestured to Kenma who found himself suddenly beside Kuroo, cradling his head in his lap, clutching tightly to the middle blocker’s free hand.  
  
“You’re okay, Kuro. You’re going to be okay.” Kenma didn’t even recognise his own voice, eyes staring down into Kuroo’s pain-tense face, his eyes squeezed shut. “I’m right here. I’m not going to leave you.”   
  
For as long as Kozume Kenma has known Kuroo Tetsurou, he was infallible. Nothing could keep him down long. Kuroo was strong and steady, stood tall and fast with an enviable confidence that made him a natural-born leader. That’s why he was Captain of Nekoma’s volleyball club. If he caught a cold or the flu, Kuroo was only stuck in bed for 24, maybe 48 hours, nothing more except for when he had pneumonia Kenma’s first year of high school. If he twisted his ankle, he would sit on the bench and call out tips and encourage the team and be back on his feet playing with them the next morning. He was their rock. He kept them grounded. Kuroo was Nekoma’s backbone. Kenma was unsure as to why Kuroo thought that it was him, Kenma himself, who served as Nekoma’s pillar. Certainly not.

That confidence was one of the things that Kenma loved about Kuroo most. But at that very moment, that confidence was nowhere to be seen. It had vanished as soon as Kuroo’s eyes had gone wide as his feet touched the ground and his ankle and knee both buckled under his weight and the awful way that he had landed, completely wrong and against textbook. 

Kuroo had barely made a sound when he felt himself go down and no one was sure what had happened. It was only when Kuroo’s head connected sharply with the court that his high-pitched, pained yelp broke Kenma from his frozen state and he found himself by Kuroo’s side, clutching tightly to his hand for dear life.   


Which is where Kenma still found himself. Nekomata had gotten up, worry etched into his weary features and he hastened himself beside Kenma and Kuroo, placing a supportive hand on Kenma’s back. “We called for the nurse and an ambulance. An injury like this with a potential concussion, I don’t want to take chances.”

“I’m going with him,” Kenma spoke up, still clutching onto Kuroo’s hand for dear life. The other hadn’t moved or said anything, Kuroo remained curled up with his head pillowed in Kenma’s lap, one hand in Kenma’s and the other clutching tightly to his knee that was now swelling up.    
  
Nekomata didn’t even question Kenma. He simply nodded, ruffled Kuroo’s and Kenma’s hair and turned to face the doors, a hand remaining on Kenma’s shoulder as he watched the nurse bring the EMTs into the gymnasium to come and retrieve Kuroo from his miserable heap on the floor.

But Kenma’s worry was only rising. Kuroo hadn’t reacted much, just a low groan now and then, eyes still squeezed shut, barely any movement. He had obviously hit his head hard on the wood of the volleyball court and the threat of a concussion was higher than Kenma wanted to imagine. So he gently shook Kuroo’s shoulder, whispering to him. “Where are you, Tetsurou? Can you tell me…?”   
  
“...Gymnasium.” Came the groggy reply and Kenma held in a sigh of relief. Good. Kuroo was responding. His speech was slow and slurred, but it was better than nothing, Kenma had decided. 

So Kenma prodded further. “What’s your name?”   
  
“...Kuroo Tetsurou.”   
  
“When’s your birthday?”   
  
“Seventeenth of November…”

“What’s today’s date?”   
  
“...Uh, it’s a Wednesday. I dunno.”   
  
Kenma winced at that answer. He’d answered everything else correctly, except that question save for the day of the week, he got that right. As Kuroo fell silent again, Kenma went over what occurred in his shell-shocked mind. Kuroo had jumped to block one of Bokuto’s erratic spikes. Kenma had seen the way Kuroo’s foot had twisted when he launched himself upwards, he had known he wasn’t going to land right.    
  
But Kenma hadn’t expected to be cradling Kuroo’s head in his lap, murmuring soothing, hushed words to him in order to calm the other through his sharp breaths that Kuroo pushed through his gritted teeth. Kenma wasn’t sure if it was anxiety, but he swore he felt his thighs getting damp and he wasn’t daring enough to carefully lift Kuroo’s head and check that he wasn’t just imagining it.   
  
The next half hour was a complete blur to Kenma. In Kenma’s opinion, it took the EMTs too long to ask Kuroo the same questions he had asked just minutes prior, and far too long to stabilise his knee and ankle as well as his head. It took even longer, in Kenma’s own opinion, to hoist Kuroo, unmoving and clearly in pain, onto the gurney and into the ambulance waiting outside the gym. 

No one argued when Kenma defiantly crawled in the ambulance, not making eye contact with anyone, to be with Kuroo, not once letting go of the other’s hand could he avoid it. He remained silent, clutching Kuroo’s hand, leaning forward now and again to attempt to brush the elder’s bed head from his eyes.  
  
  


The ride to the hospital was anxiety-ridden and too long. 

 

Kuroo had been silent the entire way, only cracking his eyes open whenever Kenma pinched the skin on his hand briefly to try and rouse him and grunting quietly whenever they went over a bump on the road. The EMT even looked mildly concerned at Kuroo’s lack of sounds. There was, in fact, a laceration on the back of Kuroo’s head and the white bandages wrapped around to stop the bleeding looked misplaced against Kuroo’s dark hair.   


Why was it this bad? Kuroo had hurt himself on court before. Had twisted his ankle, hurt his knee, strained a shoulder. He had enough kinesiology tape on at any given time to probably have the stuff manufactured specifically for him. -Nothing like this, though, where Kuroo was silent, not attempting to grin brightly up at Kenma and reassure him. Kenma was terrified beyond belief. He had quietly promised to let Kai know what Kuroo’s prognosis was so the vice captain could let the rest of the team know.

But right Kenma desperately needed a friend. They had gotten to the hospital moments ago and Kuroo had been whisked off for treatment, most likely for his head wound over everything else. A nice nurse had wrapped her arm around Kenma’s shoulder, escorting him to the waiting room and assuring him that Kuroo would be just fine and to relax.

The hand to his shoulder, unfamiliar, though kind, was shrugged away and Kenma never replied. He felt bad for being so rude, but Kuroo wasn’t there to support him and his stress was at an all time high, too much so to deal with other people, especially strangers whom were being far too intimate for their own good.

So Kenma texted Tetsurou’s mother. And then Shouyou. The texting was brief, Kuroo’s mother saying that she would be there as soon as she could be, but that Tetsurou was in good hands with Kenma. Shouyou’s response was expected by Kenma, with the middle blocker from Karasuno being more than empathetic and reassuring in regards to Kenma’s fears. 

Minutes ticked away to hours and Kenma had all but dozed off when a kind looking nurse gently touched his knee. “Kuroo-san is asking for you,” She said, a small smile on her face. Drowsily, Kenma dragged himself to his feet, following along behind her, anxiously twisting his wrists between his fingers to try and calm his frayed nerves or keep them in check. Kenma wasn’t so sure.    
  
“Is he okay?” Kenma asked tentatively, completely unsure if the nurse would even divulge that information to him or if he was going to have to pry it out of a most likely incoherent and drugged up Kuroo. “I…” Kenma hated talking this much to strangers, but it was for Kuroo, right? “I...er, he doesn’t take well to medicine, tends to have really weak tolerance to it, especially pain meds.”   
  
The nurse laughed and nodded. “Oh, trust me honey, I know.”  
  
  
  
Kenma could only flush and look down towards the floor.  
  
  


Soon the door to Kuroo’s room came into view and Kenma wanted to slam his head into a wall when he realised belatedly that, if the nurse had been taking him to an ER room, than their journey would’ve been a lot quicker. So Kuroo had been admitted to the hospital and that made Kenma all the more anxious.   
Sucking in a breath, Kenma pushed the door open and shuffled his way in. He finally lifted his head and was met with Kuroo’s lopsided, dazed smile. Kenma wasn’t sure if that was more worrisome or a relief to finally see his best friend’s eyes open. 

“Kenma,” Kuroo slurred, attempting to sit up a bit better in bed, only to fail miserably and flop back unceremoniously into the pillows the nurse had brought him. Kenma counted six stacked behind the middle blocker. Did he really need that many? “M’so glad yer here,” Kuroo continued, voice languid and lazy, with his words so muddled together that Kenma had a hard time understanding him.    
  
“You’re an idiot,” Kenma muttered, moving to sit beside Kuroo. For a hospital chair, the one Kenma had perched himself in wasn’t too bad and Kenma nestled himself a bit further into the eat in an attempt to get comfortable. He reached forward, fingers brushing against Kuroo’s before he carefully threaded their fingers together, giving Kuroo’s hand a little squeeze. “You scared me half to death, you know. How are you feeling?”   
  
Kuroo remained silent, looking oddly contemplative before he lulled his head to the side to glance dopily at Kenma. “I’un feel much right now… m’super happy.”   
  
That did nothing for Kenma’s question and he heaved out a sigh, looking around for anything that might give him Kuroo’s prognosis. The other was clearly too out of it to give him much detail, and that wasn’t easing Kenma’s fears in the slightest. “Did they tell you what was wrong?”   
  
“Yeah.” Kenma perked up hearing Kuroo’s voice and jerked his head to look over at him, giving Kuroo’s hand another little squeeze. “Uh, got a, uh, mild concussion ‘nd a moderate ACL sprain, ‘nd an ankle sprain. M’supposed t’be off m’feet for like 2 weeks. Nothin’ terrible.”

Kenma breathed out a heavy sigh of relief and rested his head on his and Kuroo’s joint hands. “That’s not too bad. I’m glad.” He slightly raised his head and gave a weak smile to Kuroo. “Your mom is bringing your glasses and whatnot. We all figured you had a concussion with the way you hit your head. Did you pass out?”   
  
“I think for a couple seconds...doc said it wasn’t quite a grade three? I’unno, they have me doped up on a lot of stuff. Gonna keep me overnight though… just t’be safe.” Kuroo fidgeted a bit in bed, adjusting his loose grip on Kenma’s hand to tighten it slightly. “...Can I ask you to stay?” He murmured softly, glancing up at Kenma, squinting so he could attempt to see the other His contacts must’ve been taken out and disposed of by the medical staff when he was first admitted. “M...M’scared, honestly. Don’t wanna be here by myself.”

Kenma felt his heart shatter at that moment. The look on Kuroo’s face was enough to convince him and Kenma nodded quickly at Kuroo. “Yeah.” He murmured. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”   
  
Kuroo let out a relieved breath, nestling back into the covers. “Thank you.” He breathed. Kenma nodded his response, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to Kuroo’s forehead, earning a low purr from the other as he dozed in and out of sleep.   
  
It was night when Kuroo’s mom finally made it and she tentatively knocked on the door to the middle blocker’s room, smiling softly at how Kenma and Kuroo were situated, hands still joint with Kenma’s head lulled towards Kuroo’s in sleep. She didn’t stay long, but had brought both Kenma and Kuroo a change of clothes so they would be more comfortable as well as dinner just in case. Kuroo’s face had turned green at the idea and Kenma  was delighted at the apple pie presented to him.

But soon enough, the pair was alone again and Kuroo had ultimately decided that no, he didn’t want to go to sleep because the nurses kept waking him and yes, he felt well enough to attempt to hold a more coherent conversation with Kenma who was dozing to sleep by his side.   
  
“Kenma.”   
  
No response.   
  
“ _ Kenma.” _

Still nothing.   
  
“Ugh,  _ Kenma--”  _ Kuroo gently jabbed at the other’s side, quickly jerking Kenma awake.   
  
“ _ What?”  _ Kenma hissed, catching Kuroo’s hand which went lax against Kenma’s grip. “You need to be sleeping, that’s what you were told to do in order to get better.”

Kuroo only smiled lazily and scooched over in the bed, patting the spot next to him. “M’chilly. Come snuggle with me.”   
  
Kenma had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “There’s barely any room in there, Kuroo, I don’t want to accidentally hu--” Kenma was cut off by Kuroo gently tugging his hand so that the other was forced to stumble against the bed and flop in as best he could considering the bedrails. “ _ Tetsurou--” _

“Please.” Came the quiet reply and Kenma lost any sense of irritation he had towards Kuroo. He still looked vulnerable and like he wasn’t feeling his best. What harm could it do?    
  
Glancing around, Kenma made sure that the door was shut and that there was no one else in the room. Slowly Kenma made his way onto the bed, curling up against Kuroo before deciding that it was probably better for him to hold the other for the moment.   
  
He managed to scooch up in bed and pull Kuroo into him, the other exhaling contently as he buried his face against Kenma’s chest. An amicable silence settled over the pair, with Kenma carefully running his fingers through Kuroo’s hair, trying to ease the headache he knew the other had whilst being mindful of the large bump from the laceration that had needed stitches.  
  
“Kuro?” It was Kenma who broke the silence first, wondering if Kuroo actually was asleep or if he was just closing his eyes to ease the throbbing in his head.  
  
“Mmm?”   
  
“I…” Kenma huffed slightly, resting his cheek gently on top of Kuroo’s head. “I’m glad you’re decently okay. And that it’s not worse than it is. And that you’ll only be sidelined for two weeks rather than a month.”   
  
Kuroo hummed quietly in response, nestling closer to Kenma, a shiver running through his frame. He had developed a slight fever over the past few hours and it had manifested itself in the form of shivers and chills.    
  
Kenma only drew Kuroo closer to him. “And...you know I love you, right?”   
  
It was silent for a few seconds, and Kenma worried, or maybe was relieved, that Kuroo was mostly likely asleep. Kenma didn’t often express his feelings so outright. He preferred to show his affections in much more subtle ways, like gentle brushes of their fingers or a small smile here and there. Except the elder spoke up quietly, dragging Kenma from his. “I know. I love you too. M’glad you’re here.”   
  
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”   
  
Kuroo huffed out a quiet laugh. “But m’not great. Only okay. Not looking forward to crutches for those couple of weeks.” He opened his eyes and looked up at Kenma, tilting his head so he was more comfortably situated against the setter. “...You’ve called me Tetsurou a lot tonight.”   
  
Kenma was about to respond before Kuroo continued to talk. “You know,” Kuroo paused, taking a steadying breath, his fingers rubbing his temples for a moment, only to be nudged aside by Kenma’s which took over. “...I like it.”   
  
“Should I do it more often?” Kenma mused, continuing to gently rub Kuroo’s temples where he had nudged the other’s hand away.  
  
“Yeah…”    
  
Kenma hummed in thought, raking his fingers through Kuroo’s messy hair before returning his fingers to their ministration back at his temples. “Well, Tetsurou, go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning. And push the pain medicine button if you need it. I can feel you grimacing.”   
  
The pain medicine button was hit with a resigned sigh, the little light going from green to red and Kuroo let his eyes close again. “G’night, Kenma.”   
  
Soft lips brushed across Kuroo’s forehead and he smiled feeling Kenma’s warm breath against his skin. “Good night, Tetsurou.”   
  
Despite the situation, Kuroo slept better than he had in a long time, curled up like a cat in Kenma’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Addendum:
> 
> Kuroo goes to practise three days later and just gestures like an old man at the team with his crutches.
> 
> Kenma is not amused.


End file.
